


By the Winding River

by mollymaukerie



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Hair Washing, M/M, Not So Subtle Flirting, river bathing under moonlight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollymaukerie/pseuds/mollymaukerie
Summary: After the days of travel towards Zadash, Caleb takes a quick dip in a nearby stream. Fjord comes by to lend a hand not before long.





	By the Winding River

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these posts (http://mischief7manager.tumblr.com/post/170408899417/so-caleb-goes-to-get-a-bath-and-then-makes-a-point + http://mischief7manager.tumblr.com/post/170423511297/i-thought-caleb-didnt-wash-his-face-hair-because) on tumblr. It was going to be fluffy and angsty all in one but this flowed a little more naturally.

The journey from Trostenwald towards Zadash wasn’t as simple as their motley band had initially thought out to be. Their wagon travelled well enough for the first few days, but one accidental spook from Nott crawling out from under the wagon after a night’s rest sent their only horse into a panic and galloping off into the brush – with the wagon as well.

It had taken them a whole day to find their wagon, with only one of its wheels askew thankfully, and their spooked horse. The evening was spent with Jester and Yasha holding the cart up while Beauregard and Mollymauk tried their best to fasten it once more. The task should have been a simple one, but with their bickering over whether or not the wheel was facing out the right way or not, it had turned into a near hour long endeavour. It was resolved when Yasha began threatening to drag them behind the wagon the next day, and Jester not so playfully teasing that she would drop the wagon on their heads if they didn’t hurry up.

Nott was kept from taking shelter under the wagon from that night onward, and neither Beauregard or Mollymauk could say a word to each other that evening without risking a sideways look from Jester or Yasha.

Their days were spent keeping watch on the road with light conversation about their travels, none of them too comfortable sharing much beyond what was already known. They were still feeling each other out, trusting yes, but not too much quite yet. Nott had a particularly hard time keeping quiet as to why she and Caleb had been arrested and then jail-escapees, only just catching herself from saying too much when Jester excitedly told her to continue.

One night, they had decided to indulge in some of the skein they had bought from Natural Remedies, back in Trostenwald. There was a little debate about how to ingest the powdered drug. Between them, Mollymauk and Beauregard determined it was safest to rub the powder along their gums and let it dissolve in their saliva. They then shared a look of equal suspicion towards one another for several long moments, trading barbs about how and why the other had come to such a conclusion.

Jester, Caleb, and Nott refrained from taking some, but decided it would certainly be amusing to watch at least. Yasha was almost unfazed by it, but no one missed the smiles that came to her face when she found something funny, nor the way her chest with rumble with her hearty laugh. Mollymauk laid back on his coat to admire the clouds, indulging in the pleasant high the skein gave, while Beauregard tried to balance herself upside down without wobbling, but only thanks to Fjord who was able to hold her ankles and prevent her from falling ass over tea-kettle into the crackling fire pit.

Jester had been no help in that regard, what with her startling use of thaumaturgy to make the fire crackle and burn fiercely for a second, the flames rising high and startling both Beauregard and Fjord enough to make them topple against the side of their tent.

They stopped in Alfield for a night of proper bed-rest, resupply, and a little sight-seeing as Mollymauk insisted, since Beauregard had described herself as on ‘vacation.’ Caleb spent the day perusing a small bookstore, leaving with a stack of two books that he had read by the end of that evening. He had spent every other night that week with two tomes in his lap, carefully but painstakingly transcribing strange arcane symbols from one to another with a look of uncontained glee.

A day after their stay in Alfield, with the hills on the outskirts of Zadash finally insight, they found a small clearing near the roadside by a trickling river. As they had since they had first set out, Mollymauk and Yasha prepared a small tent for them all to sleep in, with the exception of whomever took watch for the first part of the evening. They had been able to take the smallest of the one’s the carnival had no use of, and kept it stored within the wagon under their feet during travel. Jester and Nott would scrounge up firewood, comparing the size of their sticks in a friendly competition, with Jester laughing and making a few lewd comparisons of her own. Beauregard would settle the horse for the evening and refill their waterskins, and Caleb would set up the fire itself, teaching Fjord a little trick to light a bonfire at the same time.

It took several attempts for Fjord to begin to cast the spell with ease, growing more comfortable with the somatic gestures and verbal commands until it was as close to being a reflex as it could after several nights of practice. It earned him a cheer of applause from the group, and a generous clap on the shoulder in congratulations from Caleb.

The attention made him flush, but he was pleased with his efforts, and it didn’t escape the attention of the others with the way he let a few faint embers flitter in his palm after an evening meal.

Caleb found himself smiling for a large portion of the evening, pleased that his little lesson had resulted in so much glee and pride in Fjord. He spent the evening nibbling away at one of the small rabbits Yasha and Beauregard and spent an hour catching for their dinner, reading away at a tattered tome he’d bought, and turning the pages carefully with a relatively clean handkerchief he had in his possession.

The evening drew to a close with the two moons of the night sky rising above the tree line just as the last rays of daylight vanished, leaving only a remnant of its presence in the vibrant oranges and purples that hemmed the edge of thick clouds. Jester retired first, but everyone heard her humming to herself in the tent, no doubt drawing in her journal as she had every night. Beauregard and Yasha sat by the firepit, chatting quietly with Beauregard not so subtly reclining beside her and fiddling with the sash at her hip, trying to draw Yasha’s gaze to the toned muscle of her stomach.

Caleb sent a look towards Mollymauk, who had taken up a seat beside him for the evening, and Mollymauk smirked at him with a whisper of ‘two silvers says she hits herself in the face with that bauble at the end of her sash.’

Caleb almost took the bet, but decided against it, knowing that the odds were too narrow to make it a safe call. Mollymauk chuckled and teased him by saying he was no fun, but Caleb took in stride and laughed as he glanced upward to the skies, gauging the positions of the two moons that kept each other company in the night sky. One of the moons was smaller than the other, near unnoticeable in the shadow of the larger moon, but still there. The moons were waxing crescents, with one just slightly fuller than the other. Very rarely did the moons hold the same shape, with the lunar cycles varying between them, or at least according to the common star charts.

“I’ll pass all the same,” Caleb said as he sat up, shucking his coat to tuck his books into for safe keeping for the night. Frumpkin, who he had managed to change back into a cat after Fjord had won a fair amount of gold coins at a card game in Alfield, trotted over at his beckon and huddled up on his coat.

“Going somewhere? But the show was just beginning,” Mollymauk said with an amused smile just as Beauregard’s sash slipped in her hand a little, almost grazing her shoulder. Yasha’s lip curled into a smirk, clearly just as curious as to if it would slip further.

“I think your retelling will be much more grandiose,” Caleb replied and pulled a small piece of loose fabric from the wagon. It might have been a flag at one point, but the pole was missing. “I’m going to take a quick bath–”

“–You’re going to bathe?!” Jester called in shock, the tent flap flying open just a moment later.

“Yes, and I need you to make sure Frumpkin naps comfortably, so you stay here,” Caleb said swiftly, already making his way towards down the small brush covered embankment that led to the creek.

“I can do that! Here Frumpkin, let me pet you,” Jester hummed sweetly as she exited the tent, happily sitting beside Mollymauk and complimenting Frumpkin, who purred happily as she scratched behind his ear.

With the darkness of night settling under the tree-canopy, Caleb reached his hand into the small component pouch at his hip that he very rarely parted with and pulled a small pinch of phosphorus forth. With a small command and flourish of his hand, the phosphorus fizzled at his fingertips before turning into a small but thick globule of faint pinkish-white light. He created a second, a softer yellow hue, like a ripening lemon, and a third and fourth to match the first two. He used a little more phosphorus than necessary, to keep the spell burning a little longer.

Around him, the birds that flocked in the treetops chattered and chittered, their songs gradually being overtaken by the chirping of crickets that bounced away from his feet as he pushed through the trodden down grass. The riverbed had an earthy scent, fresh water and damp grass, a smell he had become familiar with after months of travelling through the wilderness with Nott. With a careful glance back to make sure he hadn’t been followed, Caleb began to strip back the layers of his attire. The boots came first, and he set them neatly by the riverbed out of the water before he tucked his socks into them. His toes sank into the wet sand and curled when the cool water lapped at them.

He untucked his shirt and removed his trousers, then laid his shirt out over them, using the length of fabric to cover his pelvis as he walked into the river more. It was a thin stream, a little under ten feet wide, and quite shallow. At its deepest, it came up to his knees, and he found a thick tree branch that had fallen from the canopy above at some point lodged in the water.

Reaching down, he pressed his palm firmly against the surface. The bark was soft to the touch, no doubt it had been water-logged for a long time. With a slight murmur under his breath, he felt the texture change almost immediately, turning to grooved stone. It would be more comfortable to sit on, and he wouldn’t risk splinters in his backside at least.

With a deep relaxing sigh, followed by a sharp hiss at the cold water against his skin, Caleb sank into the water and draped the colourful fabric over his lap. He rubbed some of the water in handfuls against his arms and chest before picking at his nails. He dragged his thumbnail under each other nail, clearing away the dirt that had accumulated underneath. His clothes were beyond any kind of state of cleanliness, but Caleb did his best to keep his hands clean, especially for when he handled his books.

Behind him, he heard grass and ferns brushing and swaying from movement and turned to see Fjord carefully making his way down the embankment towards the river. Noticing he’d been seen before he had called to Caleb, Fjord halted, offering a small smile and a wave.

“Jester, uh, picked up this little here ointment in Alfield, for bathing,” Fjord said, brandishing the small bottle. In the dark, Caleb wasn’t able to make out the liquid within, as Fjord was on the cusp of his dancing lights. “I thought I’d bring it down; spare you some of her…jests.”

“How kind of her,” Caleb said without a hint of sincerity. It made Fjord smirk and chuckle. “Kind of you, too,” he said, a little more genuinely.

Fjord nodded and walked the rest of the way to the riverbank, turning the little bottle of ointment over in his hand. Caleb half expected him to simply toss it to him and was surprised when he continued to turn it over, reading the label by the light of the spell Caleb had cast. Unconsciously, Caleb pulled the cloth closer over his lap, half-heartedly hoping the shadows would be enough to hide the scars at his hip and across his slightly hairy chest. The last few fights he had been in, one with his current group, had been rather close shaves for him.

“Do you need a hand, at all? With washing your hair, I mean,” Fjord quickly added, palming the small bottle several times in his hand. “You didn’t wash it back in Trostenwald, I think that’s why Jester bought this ointment. Not to imply that you don’t know, of course.”

Caleb laughed a little and bit down on his lower lip, not knowing if it would be more suspicious to refuse and laugh it off or to explain himself, be it with a lie or otherwise. Caleb dragged a hand through his hair, the locks becoming a little damp as he did so.

In the last few days though, they’d been working well together, particularly with keeping tensions from boiling over with everyone out on the road – and bluffing away their antics in Alfield.

Honestly is the best policy, as they say.

With a slight laugh, Caleb dragged his thumb and index finger down his nose, a not-so subtle attempt to distract himself from the heat rising on his cheeks.

“Well…when I took Nott to the bathhouse, she was worried about me changing,” he explained, glancing at Fjord, whose smile had started to widen with genuine interest. “I just didn’t want to trouble her or make her anxious. She has enough to worry about when we’re around others.”

“That’s mighty considerate of you, Caleb,” Fjord said with that wide toothy smile. He moved to glance down at the ground before finding a small place to sit down. “You’re always lookin’ out for her. It’s sweet.”

“She’s had my back since we met, so I do what I can. It’s the least I can do,” Caleb replied humbly. Nott had saved his life twice over, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do his best to look after her. She was his friend, and he cherished his friends.

“We’re a group now, maybe even friends, so you can rely on us to help out. Someone needs to look out for you, too,” Fjord said with that same smile.

The flush spread further along his cheeks, but Caleb couldn’t reign in the smile that tugged at his lips. He rubbed he cheek and scratched along his jaw slightly, biting softly into his lip.

“Thank you, Fjord. I appreciate it,” he said softly.

“’Course. That’s what friends are for,” Fjord replied, his lips stretching into an all too pleased smile. “I’ll just leave this with you then, if you want to use it.”

“I thought you wanted to give me a hand, eh friend?” Caleb said before he could stop himself.

Fjord, who had begun to stand up, paused and sent Caleb a curious smile. “I thought you didn’t want to bother Nott?”

“We’re still a few days from Zadash, and I’m not really going to get clean in a creek,” Caleb replied. “And you offered, it’s bad manners to rescind an offer.”

“…Bad manners indeed,” Fjord replied, his cheeks becoming rounder as his smile dug into them.

With a few shifting moments, Fjord pulled off his boots. Already stripped of his piece-mail armour, Fjord, less concerned about getting wet, stepped into the river to move behind Caleb. The soft leather of his trousers curled around his legs, sticking tight to them as he crouched.

Caleb shifted to the edge of the stone-transmuted tree just enough for Fjord to rest his knees on it and sit behind him. Fjord reached around behind him and tilted Caleb’s chin up and emptied his waterskin slowly over Caleb’s scalp, making it slick. His hair was tussled and knotted in places, and Fjord took several moments to gently comb his fingers through Caleb’s hair to untangle it.

Caleb had been travelling for longer than he had known and journeyed on with Nott. He adored her and wasn’t shy about affectionately hugging her or lifting her onto his shoulders from time to time. But he did miss this, the simple touch of another, gentle, soothing, safe. He let out a short sigh without meaning too, and his shoulders sagged as he tilted his head back further into Fjord’s touch.

Behind him, Caleb could hear Fjord uncorking the little glass bottle, and turned his head to look down over his shoulder as Fjord began to pour a small pinkish-orange ointment onto his palm. He tossed the bottle back out onto the riverbed and began to lather his hands, and Caleb turned to face forward again, tilting his head back waiting. He let his eyes lull shut, content to listen to the crickets and feel Fjord’s hands grazing against his neck.

Fjord’s fingers moved gently through the locks of tousled and damp hair. He spread his palms across Caleb’s scalp, massaging the ointment into his hair and sliding his fingers through streaks to evenly spread the ointment.

Caleb let out one soft sigh after another, indulging in the feeling of Fjord’s thumbs rolling in circles at the base of his skull. Behind him, Fjord smiled and let out a slight chuckle.

“You’re getting pretty good with your voice yourself,” Fjord murmured, just low enough to be heard, but quiet enough that it could pass for inaudible.

Caleb had heard it though. The flush returned to his cheeks, but he smiled nonetheless. “Well, I do alright. I’m not quiet all the time, but I can be when I need to be,” he said.

“That so?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“By all means.”

With another throaty chuckle, Fjord let his hands slide from Caleb’s hair, his fingers pressed close together to pull the locks straight and make Caleb tilt his head further back. Were Fjord sitting in front of him, he might have caught sight of how his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed a sound that nearly escaped his throat at such a touch.

Fjord took several moments to refill his waterskin and pour it over Caleb’s hair, once, twice, and then a third and final time, washing the ointment from his hair and leaving it slick but fragrant. Caleb dragged his fingers through his hair slicking it back and rubbing the back of his neck with another quiet sigh.

“Thank you, Fjord. That was…wonderful. Truly,” Caleb said slowly, not trusting his voice not to break even a little in that moment.

Fjord smiled and lifted himself up from behind him, letting his hand fall onto Caleb’s shoulder and grip it gently. “Anytime, Caleb,” he replied.

With another soft smile, Caleb regarded Fjord, admiring the way the soft yellow and pink hues from his dancing lights softened the sharp curve of Fjord’s jaw and allowed the golden irises of his eyes to shimmer in the darkness. Handsome indeed, just as Jester has said.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Caleb said, perhaps a little too quietly, and he hoped his gaze hadn’t wandered too much.

The flush on Fjord’s cheeks said otherwise, if only just. He smiled though and nodded, his hand sliding slowly from Caleb’s shoulder before he turned his back and made his way up to the campsite beyond the embankment after collecting his boots.

Caleb watched him leave until his figure disappeared over the embankment, and he turned to dip his hands into the water to splash his cheeks, hoping to take the heat out of them before he returned to the camp. He dragged his hand over his face, his thumb and index finger curling tight against his jaw as he caught sight of the moon’s reflection in the rippling river.

Looking upward, Caleb caught sight of the larger moon that graced Exandria with its generous glow. Slowly, he let himself lean back until his back touched the water, letting himself linger in the cold stream to soak as he admired the great celestial body above.

“What am I doing…” he murmured quietly, a whisper to the woods by the winding river, a silent prayer to no one and nothing for an answer he knew was lingering in the back of his mind.

He wasn’t ready to face it, just yet. He didn’t know what it would mean, it was far too early to tell.

But it was something, at least.

He was eager to see what it might become.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: mollymaukerie.


End file.
